The Wrath Of The United Kingdom
by Iiz42Awesome
Summary: When America goes too far in an argument England storms out. And at the next meeting- Why are there some weird people turning up claiming to be England's brothers (and sister) and beating America up for it? And where the HELL did England go, when he stormed out? (Please tell me if the rating is correct!) And some America-bashing in later chapters (don't think it's serious though).
1. Argument

The Wrath Of The United Kingdom

**A.N: Yay, another story! This was floating around and I have recently kept daydreaming about the UK brothers (and sister~) beating up someone for no actual reason. (Plus I mighta kinda like those fanfics~!) So I gave them a reason and this kinda spawned out of it~!**

**Ah right- and I don't own Hetalia. *sigh***

The current meeting was getting nowhere. Which was generally quite normal. Russia was creeping nearby nations out, Italy was annoying Germany, France was attempting to molest anything that unfortunately came within his reach and England and America were arguing about something, that had started from England's rejection of America's idea for a couple of massive hamburgers to solve world hunger.

"Sometimes I wish you were young again, because you didn't have such ridiculous ideas! Burgers are not going to clear up world hunger like a flash of bloody lightning!" England poked America's chest, with his right hand, then gently pinched the bridge of his own nose with it; perhaps trying to disspell the oncoming headache he was feeling. America felt a small fuse blow inside his head and let all his angry thoughts out in one big rush;

"Gah, y'know sometimes I wish I was raised by France, 'cause he doesn't really stay in the past as much-"

"Leave me out of zis, _s'il vous plait_?" France murmured in the background. The entire meeting was suddenly transfixed on America's rant.

"-and at least his cooking actually tastes of something other than cardboard, or whatever, and it doesn't always rain where he lives, so I just hope you go somewhere away and don't come back, you whiney, limey, waffely, scone-scoffing twat!"

Silence filled the meeting room. A pin drop would have sounded like a clap of thunder. Evryone's gaze was fixed on America, who was breathing heavily. But one by one they began to switch to England. The older, yet smaller, nation's face was flickering through a range of emotions. Hurt. Despair. Horror. Anger. Confusion. Fury. Heartbroken.

And then, without any warning, England turned on his heel and strote out of the room, slamming the door behind him, causing the hinges to rattle almost uncontrollably.

Silence once again filled the room, untill France filled it, not liking the heavy tension covering the room.

"_Amerique_, zat was quite 'arsh, even for you." he stated. All eyes were back on America, who surveyed everyone looking at him, (all who had varying levels of dissaprovement) then held up his hands in a sign of surrender.

"'Kay, 'kay, I'll go find him and apologise, alright?!" and then America walked out of the meeting in pursuit of England. Germany chose to (at least try) to restart the meeting, with quite a bit of sucess- France was sitting patiently listening to whatever was being said, as although he and England did quarrel quite a lot, deep down they did care for each other.

Near the end of the meeting, when there was about 5 minutes left, America re-entered the room, looking quite dejected. Nantucket hung low on his head, as all eyes turned to him once again, looking for an answer. America sighed.

"I-I couldn't find him. He wasn't in the entire building, or the hotel where we're all staying. Umm... actually he appeared to have checked out today, 'cause I asked at the front desk..."

Most nations brushed it off, as the meeting ended, as England needing some time alone, but the question still lingered in the air, a bit like an annoying mosquito-

Where had England gone?

**A.N: Ah, so this is the first chapter of a few to come~! **

**Updates will not be in a set pattern (unfortunately) but I will always finish my stories, no matter what. It may just take a little while~! **

**Also I may get broadband on 24/1/2012 (English way around~) so you can probably expect more frequent updates! Depends on my procrastination skills though too (putting things off- I do it quite a lot with homework too).**

**Thanks to KFzeta03 who gave me an idea of America's insults to England!**

_**S'il vous plait- (French) please **_**('Kay so I'm learning French in school!)**

_**Amerique- (French) America**_

**Reviews please! Be as awesome as Prussia!**

**Prussia: ...Vhat?**


	2. The Next Meeting

The next meeting dawned with the earlier-rising nations arriving to find the room unprepared, and completely empty. Usually it was England who would sort out the room, as he was the earliest riser, so arrived at the meeting rooms first. It also saved time, because getting all the equipment out,when everyone arrived, just annoyed most nations (Germany) as they prefered to just start the meeting, enabling everyone to get more work done. If you don't count all the fighting done by most nations (England, France and America- everyone else mainly watched).

After the mess of sorting everything out, the other members of the G8 started slowly filing in. America was the last nation in, looking hopeful that a certain Englishman was there, but quickly lost his enthusiasm when he only saw there were seven recognised members of the G8 there, of the eight people attending.

The eighth nation? Well, somehow Ireland had snuck in, complete with Guiness (an Irish beer)- he has and never will get caught by Germany. With fiery-red-gingerish hair and freckles, he was sitting between Japan and France, attracting the Frenchman's wary glances from time to time, and mainly being ignored by everyone else, while sending his own 'death' glares to America, while nobody was looking.

Germany had to start the meeting, after half an hour of waiting, when it became clear England was not going to turn up. America was wasting no time in expressing his confusion at where England was.

"I wonder where Iggy has gone?" he was wondering aloud.

"_Amerique_, you were the one to insult 'im, so it's anyone's guess where 'e went to calm himself down." France was quick to reply. Most nations were quick to agree, apart from Ireland who was sending more 'death' glares to America. And if anyone looked, they would have noticed the flicker of a smile cross Ireland's face.

And as America started his presentation...

That was when all his troubles began...

**A.N: So this is the first of my OC's~! Ireland! More coming up~! (Later though- think I'm coming down with something... damn you winter...)**

**Broadband soon~! SOOOOO happy!**

**Reviews please!**

**Prussia:... Vhat vas this about being as Awesome as me?!**


	3. Wales

**A.N: Hey, long time, no see! Sorry it's been a while, broadband was very late (*annoyance*) and I was ill for a while. Then I totally forgot about this! I'm sorry everyone! Also I found some cute Welsh to use in this chapter, so translations will be at the bottom!**

**And I'm still disclaiming that I don't own Hetalia! **

**Thank you to everyone for their reviews!**

The door clicked to announce someone's arrival, and everybody looked to see who it was. Amazingly it appeared to be England, with a sheep by his right leg. So, most nations were thinking;  
_Why the heck is England here?! He can't have recovered from the argument that fast!_  
But Ireland knew differentely. See, what most didn't know was that England had a twin. Okay, only his brothers and sister knew, and France (but the siblings were the only ones who could tell them apart).

"Iggy?" America asked

"Um, no I'm his brother, Wales, I think you'll find," his voice had a distinct Welsh accent to it. Wales looked quite a lot like England (duh-twins) but his hair was a shade lighter and a bit longer, nearing his shoulders, and his suit was a lighter shade of green with a red dragon emblazoned on the top left pocket, as a symbol of his flag- other than that, they were both practically identical- in height, eyes and, of course, the infamous thick eyebrows (which Ireland had too, so it probably ran through the whole family).

"What? So is your country like... made of whales?" America asked standing by the main board. This caused most of the nations there to facepalm.

"No. Anyway, from what I heard, you said some really bad things to _Lloegr_," Wales said, slowly walking up to America. Wales was aslo beginning to speak in Welsh, a sure sign he was getting angrier. Everyone in the room was pratically holding their breath.

"_Fe lefodd e am hynny_.So this is for upsetting him..."

And America recieved quite a sore foot, from being stamped on, which made moving his toes quite hurtful. He also got a bruised arm, which sometimes hurt when he moved it (seriously, that could have just been America being a wuss) and a bite taken out of his bomber jacket, which was actually Wales' sheep, as it couldn't find anything to chew.

"Wait, I thought you and Iggy's bro's hated him?" Americaa asked, as Wales was on his way out. Wales paused.

"_Ni wedi maddau iddo_. And it's England, not Iggy. Seriously, where did that come from?" Wales shook his head and walked out, leaving America to rub his arm.

The door clicked shut, filling the room with silence.

"Ow...?" America said, unsure of what to think.

**A.N: I hope people enjoyed this chapter, as much as I was squealing with happiness writing it! (Read the translations). France is probably going to figure out what's going on soon, as he's delt with the British Isles for most of his life too, so that will probab;y be the next chapter!**

_**Lloegr**_**- England**

_**Fe lefodd e am hynny**_**- He cried about that **

_**Ni wedi maddau iddo**_**- We forgive him**

**Again, thank you for all your reviews, everyone! **


	4. France Figures Out

**A.N: It's been too long... too long... so sorry everyone!**

**Hetalia still isn't mine...**

**To recap: America just got beaten up by Wales for quite upsetting England...**

When the door clicked shut, silence once again filled the room. Quite an awkward silence actually. Most were just trying to comprehend the fact that England had a brother, except for three nations. One was nursing his bruised arm (having sat down), staring at the door in shock. One was trying to figure out why Wales had come. And the last couldn't give a shite (he knew what exactly was happening) and was sipping his beer, surveying the other nation's reactions. Which all did seem to be varying degrees of shock.

France had been attempting to piece all of the pieces together, figure out why England's brother had made an apperance (and beat America up). He thought back, to when they were all younger, and himself and England had been at each other's throats almost all the time (like they aren't now, but anyway...). A hidden memory clicked into place, and everything suddenly made sense, so France explained it to the rest of the group, and one very confused America.

"Ahh, _Amerique_, you've got ze 'ole of ze United Kingdom's wrath upon your shoulders." he sighed suddenly. After observing many confused looks, he explained further;

"When we were all little, I did (I'll admit) sometimes really annoy _Angleterre_. One time... I might have gone a little far, so ze next day, his siblings came over and... 'ow you say... said I shouldn't do it again-"

"So they kinda beat you up." America finished recalling the last minute of his existence and what happened there.

"_Oui_... and I do believe zey won't stop before each one has had a go." France confirmed. Ireland was simply attempting not to look too smug before anybody noticed.

Needless to say, America wasn't really motivated by that short anecdote (story). It didn't really cheer him up knowing that another of England's siblings would turn up, then beat him up.

Germany looked to France, "Can't you stop them from coming?" He was anxious to get the meeting started again, to actually accomplish something for once (then phone England up later on, to discuss every point made). France thought for a moment.

"_Non_... not really. Plus zey are all barbaric on zose little islands of theirs." France added. Everyone chose to ignore his last comment, exept for Ireland, yelling "HEY!", realising his mistake and trying to look like he hadn't said anything and avoid Germany's wrath.

Because who wouldn't want to miss this freaking show?

**A.N: I freaking hate my teachers, it's the holidays (two weeks~ yay~) and they still set us massive amounts of homework, which I have to start now, to have any chance of finishing it *sigh*.**

**Anyhow, sorry for ranting... hehehe~ Hope you all enjoyed this chapter [it feels nice to get back into the flow of writing...].**

**Reviews may help me find time to write the next chapter...~!**


	5. Northern Ireland

The next visitor to the room was female and she looked a lot like Ireland (but had thinner eyebrows, although they were a little thicker than normal too- if that makes sense). As she sureyed the room, the other nations could see that she had the same fiery green eyes as England and Ireland had, and the unmiskable british accent was present (underneath her northern irish one when she spoke).

"Hey Ireland!" were the first words out of her mouth... she seemed quite cheery at first.

"Hey, North" Ireland responded, so it didn't really take a genius to figure out that this was Northern Ireland.

It also didn't take a genius to figure out what, or who, she was here for.

Her sharp green eyes scanned the room quickly before finding her taget and narrowing in anger.

"You're that brat, America, right?" she said suddenly sounding really serious (and deadly- because NOBODY upsets North's little brother and gets away with it).

America was up at the board again, trying to get some more of his presentation finished, before North had come in. Right now he had also figured out what was going to happen.

"...uhhh... yes...?" America said in the smallest of voices possible.

"Well then..." North said slowly walking up to America. The tension was filling the room very quickly.

"This is for my little brother." North said then kicked America in the leg, which would easily become a dark bruise and give America a little limp (but maybe that's just America being a little wuss). She also gave him a sharp slap on the cheek making it red and slightly sore too.

"You definately deserve more than that, but you're not even worth it." she said icily cold and then strode out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

America was trying to cool down his flaming hot cheek with the back of his hand (which was gratefully cool) as he turned to Ireland.

"Dude, couldn't you stop them?" he asked. Ireland had managed to patch up relations recently with England (since they hadn't talked for over a couple of centuries, due to Ireland becoming independant) and could now just begin to call him "brother" again.

"Not really... " Ireland said, and muttered under his breath "And why would I?" which was missed by everyone.

"Crap... so that's it then?" America asked, a little hopeful that it had ended.

Strangely everyone somehow "forgot" to tell America that someone could have more than just two siblings.

Now, Ireland couldn't care less, but France was quite hoping the last brother wouldn't come. Because yes, England had one more brother, who unfortunately had quite a short temper and could be quite violent. France should know. He had been on his bad side plenty of times and knew how vicious he could be...

**A.N: Wow, there are a lot of people happily waiting for Scotland to come along~! (My guess is that they don't like America much [maybe for his insults...?] and want him beat up)**

**So don't you guys worry, he's coming next! **

**(Unfortunately on a bad note, exam season is here, so I will be kept busy for quite a while... *tsk* typical- you don't have exams for a couple of years, then four come along at once...**

**So you guys may have to wait a while- but it will be up!)**

**In the meantime, I will probably be writing some Phan (Youtubers- Danisnotonfire and AmazingPhil), so feel free to perhaps read some of those.**

**Also could you all possibly please look and vote on my poll? I have a lot of Hetalia fanfiction ideas, so I would like to know the ones which most tickle your fancy- which I will write after this fic (in order of popularity)!**

**Anyhow, thanks for reading this important message from me and I hope you keep following this story!**


	6. Scotland

**I tried, okay? ;_;**

The first sign, that someone else was coming was the sound of heavy footsteps down the hallway. They were almost vibrating the room in which the eight nations were sat. Well, most were sitting, America had stood up, due to his hero instincs kicking in, and wanting to protect everybody in the room.

The next sign, that someone was coming, was that the nations could hear very angry muttering, in a thick, almost unidentifiable accent, coming ever so closer. Some of it was distinguishable words:

"...fuckin' argument... went to mah house... couldn' even fuckin' talk much... so upset 'e was... punch that brat's guts out..."

The more easily scared nations were terrified and quaking in therir chairs, mainly Italy, who was hanging onto Germany's arm with quite a lot of force, but most could definately feel the dark aura heading towards them. Even Japan, with his usual straight, emotionless face (some would say poker face), was looking a little wide-eyed with terror at the door. Nobody was looking forward to whoever was coming. (okay, maybe Ireland then, considering that he was smirking, if anybody looked at him. But everyone else was too transfixed on the door to notice.)

Then, the door slammed open, with more force than could have imagined. It was a miracle that the door stayed on its hinges really. A very angry-looking guy was there, with a blue suit on, and two white straps crossing across his chest. He also had very fiery red hair, with vivid green eyes, and rather thick eyebrows.

The last of England's sibling's was here.

"_L'Ecosse_..." France breathed quietly, but enough so everyone could hear it. Nations had to learn at least a little bit of each other's language so they could get around. This was how they found out that this... nation... was Scotland, England's eldest brother.

With a growl, he walked straight over to America, who was really quaking in his boots, hands balled into fists at his sides.

A stare-out commenced. The tension in the room was so thick, it felt like it was possible to drown people in it. America was deperatley trying to move his legs; get away from the menace that was coming ever closer, but they were frozen in place, and would not respond.

France tried to release some of the tension in the atmosphere, and stood up "_L'Ecosse_, why-"

"Shut it." the taller nation growled, known as Scotland (to all the English, not French speakers). He spoke directly to America ignoring all other people in the room;

"So what's this I've heard about a massive argument, hm?" he leaned in close to America, forcing the latter to begin to lean slowly back. America swallowed willing himself to speak in front of this threatening man.

"Well... I... uhh-"

He was silenced by Scotland's fist smashing into the side of his face, cracking one of the lenses of Texas, America's trustworthy pair of glasses.

America stumbled back a little bit, taken by suprise. Scotland drew ever so closer emitting a very dangerous aura around him. America began to back off, ever so slowly somehow avoiding his chair, which had been pushed quite far out when he had stood up, in the beginning.

Scotland was drawing dangerously close again, very audibly growling in anger, a bit like Germany, when he's in a bad mood and wants the nations to be quiet. America raised both arms in an attempt to defend himself, crossing them slightly over his chest, his own hands clenched into fists (but also hiding them from the fact that they were shaking slightly as well). Scotland smirked a little as though he knew America was scared, since he was a good reader of character anyway, and at his pathetic attempt to defend himself.

With one swift movement Scotland grabbed Amrica's arms with one hand and easily shoved them out of the way while the other hand was making another attack, and landed, right on his stomach.

America was winded a little and tried to back away knowing that it was probably no use defending himself (he's smarter than most give him credit for) because this absolute _cyco_ England apparentely called a brother, was probably going to get him no matter what.  
Scotland, though, was really getting into this, as he struck Amrica's jaw and stomach again with merciless glee- it's what you get if you upset his little brother!

America, however, was in a lot of pain now, his stomach and jawline (not to mention head and leg) were aching and probably heavily bruised in places.

Scotland suddenly grabed America's tie and shirt and dragged the American towards himself- they were practically toughing noses. He spoke with so much anger his words were just about understandable to anybody...

"If ye say anything to fucking upset my fucking brother like that again, then I'll come round to ye house an' there'll be a certain series of... shall we say 'accidents'..." the Scotsman grinned looking very evil, and leaned in even closer to the American, so his smoky hot breath (from a lot of cigarettess) ghosted across the Americans face and fogged up his glasses "an' belive me... it'll be worse than this... a LOT worse..."

Germany at this time chose to (at least attempt) to step in and stop Scotland. Needless to say he was a little nervous, since he had met the Scotsman before, under less-than-desirable circumstances, and knew partly of what America was going through...

_*a little flashback I guess~*_

_(It had been the Blitz of Britain, 1940, and Germany had just ordered another squadron of the Luftwaffe [the German air force] to attack the UK. He had just retired to his bedroom to retrive more bandages, because the RAF (from the UK) were also attacking his cities and that could really sting if he didn't treat his injuries, when his door opened suddenly. _

_"Ja?" he called, not bothering to look behind him, but a hand spun him around, so Germany ended up looking at a pair of vivid green eyes. Eyes he'd seen before on another nation. On England. But this wasn't England. _

_"Lemme explain," the stranger, with shocking, messy red hair, Germany noted "you've been hurting my little brother right? I'll show you what happens to people who mess with my little brother..."_

_And Germany only had time to realise who this stranger was, it finally sank in, before the first of many fists began hit his face...)_

_*end of flashback~*_

"Uhh, Scotland, that's enough.." Germany said also standing up, (so now France, Germany and America were standing up... okay, just France and Germany, considereing America's current state).

"Shut it Kraut." Scotland hissed venomusly, not even bothering to look at the German. France winced recognising the old World War Two name that many Britons had given to the Germans (but later on, more Americans used instead). Italy was understandibly confused

"What's a 'kraut'?" he asked, still hanging on to Germany's arm. Germany simply sighed.

"Not now Italy." he said. Italy just nodded feeling the Scotsmans gaze upon him, beofre he switched back to America who had been frozen in his grip.

"You got lucky this time. Next, I won't be so soft on ya." the Scotsman warned the American, his voice low but deadly, and carrying all around the room so everyone could hear it.

And, with that Scotland let go of America's tie and shirt, and delivered one hard, heavy, but final blow to America's stomach, causing the American to collapse on the floor groaning with pain, and walked out of the door.

Ireland also decided that this was his cue to leave, and followed the Scotsman out of the door, but not before he also "accidentaly" stood on America's legs, and pushed deep into them. The limp America may have been faking from before definately wasn't a fake now.

The door clicked shut once again leaving only the American's whimpers to fill the room.

"I think we'll call off the meeting for today..." Germany started.

"'Ow about we pick it up again in two days time?" France suggested, knowing America would need time to recover.

That was something everyone could agree on.

**A.N: So, this was my attempt at a fight... hoped it was as good as ya'll wanted! I'm not sure of it myself though...**

**Now, just one more chapter then I'm finished (but it will take a while), so I ask you to vote on my poll- it's pretty tense (for me) right now, the top two stories are tied!**


	7. Last Meeting (of the week)

After two days rest, the G8 filtered back into the meeting room, to finish up the weeks worth of meetings. However there was a suprise waiting for them...

England was back.

He was the first into the room, and had set up the room, just like normal. He was even sitting in his normal seat, patiently waiting for everyone else to come in.

As everyone else arrived though, what was not normal was the heavy tension lulling throughout the room, obviously most evident between America and England, both who had to sit next to each other, and neither talked to the other. France, on the other side of the Englishman, also didn't like it- especially the cold front England seemed to be putting up against everyone.

As the meeting split up- for the first break, most hurried out of the room as fast as they could go. The only three left in the room were America and England and France, to at least try to break up a fight if one did start- although it would be very difficult to (if you didn't count Ireland, who had again snuck in... but totally NOT to keep an eye on England, and possibly, unnecessarily beat up America again... and was totally NOT hiding out in the corner).

"So..." America started, at least trying to start a conversation, even if he didn't pick the right topic "where exactly did you go, like, two days ago... y'know with-"

"I know when," England cut him off, with some sharp, cold words "and it's not really your business is it?"

He took a second or two to skim over America's state of wellbeing. One of the lenses of his glasses was cracked, America having no luck in finding his spare pair, somewhere around his tip of a house. He also appeared to have a little limp on his leg (possibly over-exaggerated though), and some faint brusing on his jaw. The next thing to say turned out a little awkward for England,

"So, I see.. you got some visitors... two days ago..." he said, sounding quite smooth, but inside he was tight with nervousness. The earlier cold front he put up, had eventually dropped.

"Ah..well... yeah," America said, taken aback ,by the sudden change of topic, especially to one which had hurt him (literally) "Yeah... so, I guess I'm sorry for what I said then... and, well, can't you really control your brothers? So, they don't.. well... beat random people up, I mean?" He managed to apologise (finally if you ask me).

Ireland was going ever closer to the pair, as was France, but both were for probably entirely different reasons.

"Accepted I guess. Then... not really control them... plus, why would I even want to?" England asked, accepting America's apology, and the possible ghost of a smirk flitted across his face. Ireland smirked too, knowing his little brother was going to be just fine... however there was one thing to say though...

He lent in close, to America and England, mostly leaning on England's shoulder though, and said,

"Plus, some nation, mighta said that we're all barbaric on 'those leetle islands of theirs' as well..." with quote fingers, and the worst impression of a French accent ever- considering it was horribly mangled by his thick Irish accent.

France facepalmed.

"What?!" England practically shouted, then lept upon France, and started beating him to a bloody pulp. America stood by watching the two, beginning to laugh again, while Ireland took the chance to sneak out, just before the rest off the G8 came back in.

And that's how Ireland started an Anglo-French brawl which lasted the rest of the entire meeting. Still it was nice to know that England was feeling better now.

Germay, however, was not impressed.

**A.N: Ack, sorry I really haven't updated in a while... school's been stressful, plus my laptop got a virus, so I lost all of my work *screams of horror*- it's okay, though, I am slowly getting it all back!**

**So this fic may be finished, but my poll is still open- please vote- and, when I last looked, the top 3 fic ideas are now tied! It is so tense, for me, right now! (I haven't actually got a definate closing date- but I guess when I go on summer holidays is good [no school!] so the closing date is approx. 24th July!)**

**But I thank you all for reading, and reviewing~! **

**Thank you~!**


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